I actually wanted to post this last weekend, but I was having problems uploading pictures. Last Saturday we hit 80 degrees in Denver. The next day we woke up to this…
I have lived here 7 years now and I never get used to the weather. We have to keep all our clothes out all year, because we never know. We’ve seen 40’s in July and a week of 70’s in January. As a sidenote, this snow was gone by noon the next day, and we set 80 degree records again this week. Go figure.
And just because it’s so much fun…leaves. The kids walk through giant piles of leaves when we walk to school, and I want to tell them to quit because they’re getting their shoes all dirty before school, but if I’m honest what I really want to do is join them. There’s not much more satisfying a sound as the crunching of leaves under your feet. Good Stuff. Pip obliged them this pure joy today when he raked the backyard.
You know, I’m just going to get to the point and say that we returned Elsie to the Greyhound Rescue place. Here’s why…
Our house is a raised ranch, meaning there are stairs to get into the house from the front, stairs to get out to the backyard and stairs to get to the basement that houses our bedrooms. Elsie was absolutely terrified of our house. The stairs leading to the front door were never a problem for her, but the rest all were. Pip had to carry her (70 lbs.) down our basement stairs every night, because if we left her upstairs she would whine and bark and howl, and if no one came to get her, she would start destroying stuff…BIG stuff…like my dining room chairs and the kids little table and chairs and once Pip caught her going for the cabinets (as in Kitchen). She destroyed my favorite pair of black shoes in the 20 minutes it took me to drop DQ off at school (she figured out how to open the coat closet), and ingested a few crayons, pencils and various other things around the house. It got so bad that I had to remove all the cushions off the couch and lock them in the office if we left. To solve the destruction problem we took out the kennel and she was so terrified of IT that she ate her dinner and walked into the living room whereupon she threw up her entire dinner in front of the kennel. That happened twice.
In addition, she got so scared of the back steps that when I came home from work (EVERY DAY) I had to chase her around the house with the leash so that I could get her out side to go to the bathroom. No matter, because she would pee the whole time I was trying to get ahold of her, therefore leaving a trail of pee all through the house before she even got out the door.
All this and she only bonded to Pip. She could not have cared less about the kids, and I’m not even going to get started on me. At the beginning, this was all funny like “Oh Ha Ha Ha, look how Pip has to carry that huge dog!” and “Hee hee. I guess she’ll eventually like us.” but then it all got very unfunny and I got to the point where I simply could not take it anymore, and said “I’m Done.” People keep saying this was a freak situation and that not all dogs are like that, but right now I’m not buying it. It will be a long time before you read about anymore dogs on this blog.
I finished this kitchen window valance a couple of weeks ago, and have been waiting to block it before putting it up, but who am I kidding. . . I’m never going to block it, so I used a few cup hooks and hung it up. I think I’ll make a shade in muslin to put behind it, if for no other reason than to keep out the cold.
I used the “South Seas Table Runner” pattern from Knit Two Together, except I modified it to fit my window.
I used two balls of Jaeger Aqua in (I think they call it) Midnight. It’s Navy blue.
I also have big news, but I need a good chunk of time to write about it, so maybe later.
I haven’t written lately because I have re-entered the workforce, and am trying to figure out scheduling in relation to this major life change. I am now a teacher’s aide at DQ and TM’s school. Well, the term the district uses is “Paraprofessional”. I have to admit that, at first, I wasn’t crazy about the title…I mean para; It’s like I’m not quite professional, part professional, just shy of wholly professional, but now I’m realizing it kind of suits me, as I have no aspiration to be wholly professional. I prefer my part professional, part crazy title. It’s working for me. I like being close to the kids, and the worst part of the day is having the teachers in TM’s class peel him off of me while he screams “I WANT MY MOMMY!” several times repeated for emphasis. It is rather hard, and I have to admit I stand outside of his classroom with my ear to the wall to see if he will stop soon (he does), but at the same time it makes me second guess my decision. I know he will be fine, and will eventually look forward to school, but for now…it’s rough.